Chapter 77: You Two Wouldn’t Want To... |
“If it’s just basic care, there’s no need for you two to come, right?” Celt leaned back against the chair’s cushion, his body sinking slightly into it. He sat sideways, casually resting one hand on the sofa back. “I don’t know what your pricing is like, but I’m sure it’s way more expensive than your average butler or maid.”
“Folding blankets, sweeping dust, cooking meals—those kinds of ordinary chores…”
“Anyone could do them, right?”
He deliberately drew out his tone, his gaze sweeping over the butler and maid before him.
“Even if you insist on better quality or higher efficiency,” his pale golden vertical pupils locked onto them, “I’d still have to watch out for you being spies or moles sent by him. Feels like a loss to me.”
The jellyfish Sereia drifted slowly toward Celt, stopping beside him.
She couldn’t understand a thing—she just came over out of pure curiosity.
*Smack.*
A crisp clap of hands rang out abruptly.
“Now then, give me a reason to keep you here.”
“Young butler and maid, you two wouldn’t want to fail your master’s mission and get fired, would you?”
Butler William kept one hand behind his back, pressed against his spine, and leaned forward slightly, speaking respectfully: “Respected Mr. Freyn, Iris Housekeeping Services is dedicated to providing comprehensive, top-tier service to our employers.”
“Beyond necessary tasks like cleaning, sewing, caregiving, financial management, scheduling, teamwork, and various other services, we also handle information gathering and basic cleanup work regarding Law Seekers and extraordinary species.”
Alia glanced at Sereia not far away and softly added, “We’re also familiar with some extraordinary species’ habits and skilled at caring for them.”
Sereia probably didn’t understand a word, just instinctively moving her tentacles slightly.
To have a natural-born trump card for charming beautiful girls yet fail to use it—what a waste of a gift.
“Oh~.” Celt nodded in feigned realization. “So you’re two assassins.”
“Assassins who can help me take care of my little jellyfish too.”
“Alright, fine.” Celt smiled and nodded, giving a thumbs-up. “Good, but you’re way too lacking in spirit.”
“Even though you might as well have ‘I’m a spy’ written on your faces, that’s okay—I like that kind of thing.”
“Congratulations, you passed the interview.”
The butler and maid immediately bowed: “It’s an honor to serve you.”
Celt waved his hand, signaling them to rise.
“So then, from now on, taking care of this house is your job. Cleaning, cooking—well, for cooking, you’ll need to buy ingredients yourselves since there aren’t any. You can come to me for money anytime.” Celt pushed himself up from his knees as he stood, his voice drifting lightly into their ears. “As for how much information you can gather, that’s up to your own skills.”
He naturally bent slightly at the waist, extending both arms like he was picking up a large, semi-transparent cushion, pulling the floating Sereia into his embrace.
The jellyfish’s cool touch seeped through his clothes, but Sereia seemed used to it by now. A few tentacles instinctively coiled around Celt’s arms and shoulders.
Turning toward the backyard, he planned to take the little jellyfish for a stroll in the villa’s attached garden to get her familiar with the new environment.
Sereia, apparently not used to this kind of “high-speed movement,” tightened her tentacles around Celt instinctively.
“As you wish, sir.” Butler William’s low, steady voice echoed from behind.
“Yes, sir.” Alia’s soft voice followed right after.
Both maintained their bowing posture until Celt’s figure disappeared through the arched doorway leading to the garden. Only then did they slowly straighten up.
William’s left hand remained behind his back the entire time. Alia’s hands, clasped together in front of her, didn’t move a muscle.
But actually, Celt was wrong about them this time—they weren’t here for a spy mission.
That elegant Mister Pride had never stooped to such things.
Since he’d said it was a “gift,” he certainly wouldn’t poison the gift.
Although they did have a mission, they weren’t really interested in Celt’s or Samuel’s privacy.
**Half an hour earlier.**
Wyatt reclined sideways on a sofa draped in deep purple velvet, holding a goblet in his hand, looking at William and Alia before him.
“A simple gesture of goodwill,” Wyatt said, his voice carrying his trademark warmth. “I trust you two can handle it. After all, you’re the best team in the kingdom, right? I believe in you.”
Seeming to notice what William was thinking, he set down the goblet, chuckled lightly, and shook his head.
“Mmm… no need for information gathering. You won’t get anything out of them anyway.”
“But since you’re on the job anyway, keep an eye out for me on the side.”
William gave a slight bow: “Please instruct, my lord.”
A smile lingered on Wyatt’s face as he spoke, without giving a direct order.
“Guess why the Royal Family doesn’t kill everyone born with the ‘Royal Blood’ Law Rhyme.”
William thought for a moment before offering his guess: “I believe it might symbolize the nation’s heir.”
“No,” Wyatt denied. “What you call an ‘heir’ usually doesn’t have Royal Blood.”
He picked up the goblet again, gently swirling it.
“The answer is actually quite simple.”
“If the ‘Royal Blood’ belonging to the Royal Family falls or is lost, it will scatter among the common folk after 100 years. Through the coincidences of fate, someone not of the Royal Family will acquire the ‘Royal Blood.’”
“In that case, the person who awakens this Law Rhyme is always extraordinary.”
“I think this is our opportunity.”
He brought the goblet to his lips and took a light sip.
“Counting the time, it’s about now.”
“Should be within these two days.”
Not facing William directly, he looked down at the swirling wine in the glass.
“Forgive me, but we might not be able to find the person you’re looking for,” William said, head lowered. “If the one you seek doesn’t reveal themselves, we may not be able to distinguish them properly.”
Wyatt shook his head.
“You people need to trust in fate.”
He glanced at William, then quickly looked away.
“Relax. With me here, as long as you send out enough people, you’ll bump into them by chance sooner or later.”
“If I want something, I will get it.”
Setting down the goblet, he tilted his head toward the window not far away.
“The Royal District map…”
He uttered a few words softly.
“Hmm~.”
Then, he let out a pleased hum.
Unaware of the information gap, Celt was at that moment carrying Sereia around the backyard.
This garden wasn’t big, but it was exquisitely decorated.
Artificial rockeries and streams, along with narrow, winding forest paths.
At that moment, Celt noticed a kerosene hanging lamp.
But the scenery was indeed nice, and the flowers looked beautiful.
Assuming it was daytime, the lamp wasn’t lit now.
But even if it were lit, the area just below the kerosene lamp wouldn’t be hard to illuminate, blocked by the lamp itself.
So this was what they meant by “the darkest place is under the lamp.”
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